


Freak Accidents

by BlueEyedArcher



Series: The Adventures of Officer Park and Officer Upshur [2]
Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Cop AU, Cop!Miles, Cop!Waylon, Dancing and Singing, Domestic Violence, Investigations, M/M, Miles likes to embarrass Waylon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-06 11:05:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12209985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: Officer Waylon Park and Officer Miles Upshur uphold justice in the name of the Mount Massive Police Department. Helping their tiny town in the Leadville area and its occupants. The first of many instances.This is the second installment where a routine patrol is anything but.





	Freak Accidents

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think in the comments down below. This is a new series I'm trying out writing.
> 
> Also, this is the song Miles is singing.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=27SjwDq_L7I 
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!

Today was Officer Upshur’s day to drive, something that Waylon dreaded at times because despite them upholding the laws of safe driving, Miles always managed to make it feel like they were in an action movie. More specifically, he drove the cruiser like he drives his jeep while off roading which was probably why it was in the shop for the third time this month getting repairs done on it. Which made Waylon fear for their poor cruiser’s safety. If they ruined another one, their chief was going to have their heads.

 

They stopped at Lisa’s cafe, today being Waylon’s turn to get the coffee. Meanwhile Miles had the radio going and was drumming along on the steering wheel waiting for his partner to return. Already flipping through the songs on the radio to find the one he wanted. The dispatch radio was turned up so he would be able to hear them being toned out for an emergency even though that was unlikely in such a rural podunk place like this. By the time Waylon returned, Miles was already grinning, taking the offered cup of coffee in hand and sipping at it. He declined the bag of donuts which Waylon found unusual but assumed it was because he was driving so he ignored it. It didn’t take long to pull out of the parking lot and start their patrol patterns for the area. Cruising through town, down main street and taking the side roads to the school.

 

“Hm, it’s a little too quiet this morning.” Miles remarked as he reached over for the knob on the radio to turn it on, playing the chosen song. This one being  _‘I haven’t had enough by Marianas Trench’_

 

Miles immediately jumped into it within the first couple notes and started lip syncing and dancing to Waylon’s dismay. He did this every once in awhile which mortified Waylon because Miles liked to use the dash cam footage for his own video collages to further embarrass Waylon. Especially during holidays at the station. Showing off their patrols to some of their colleagues.

 

 _“Testing, testing. I’m just suggesting.”_ He turned to face Waylon as he sang along.  _“You and I might not be the best thing. Exit, exit, Somehow I guessed it right, right.”_ He pointed at Waylon to urge him to join in. Waylon’s face beet red as he continued.  _“But i still want you, want you. Don’t mean to taunt you, If you leave now, I’ll come back and haunt you.”_

 

“Miles no-” Waylon started, turning in his seat to stare at his partner through the hand now covering half his face in embarrassment. He was just glad nobody was around to see them. Miles energetically swaying and singing his heart out in the driver’s seat like he’s standing in front of a bathroom mirror with a fake microphone in his childhood.

 

Miles grinned and faced the dash cam as he continued.  _“You’ll remember return to sender now, now-”_

 

Before they could get any further into the song, it was interrupted by dispatch sending out a tone for one of the units to respond to a domestic situation. The pairing were repeat offenders and they were both at fault. Everyone in town knew when they’d fight and everyone questioned why the pair never divorced if they supposedly hated each other so much. Miles always voiced he thought it was because of the make up sex afterwards. Waylon turned off the radio and picked up the mic. “Officer Park to dispatch. 10-4 on the call. We’re enroute now.” Dispatch cleared and they were off lights and sirens down the street. The call was two roads over and in a small suburban area that was more like a trailer park.

 

Upon arrival, they called in that they didn’t see either suspect. They received a heads up that a third party called it in and that it was the woman of the pair this time that started it and that either one or both were intoxicated. Which wasn’t a surprise because they were always intoxicated when this happened. Miles led the way towards the small dilapidated trailer with it's water stained exterior and broken screen windows. The door was wide open and the concrete steps looked like they were falling apart. One of the railings had been knocked completely off one side, the iron fixture rusted beyond repair. Places like this made Miles’ skin crawl with disgust but it was part of the job. They knocked on the screen door which was partially open due to a piece of clothing lodged in the entryway. “It’s too damn early in the morning to be dealing with this shit.” Miles groaned which Waylon stood behind him, nodding in agreement.

 

“Police! We’re coming in!” Miles called out. He had been here so often it was to the point they might as well have been family. They could always stroll right on in and the pair wouldn’t even care though after one instance of walking in on them in the midst of some rather questionable angry sex, Waylon choose to stay behind Miles and let him go first. Not wanting another eyeful of that terror.

 

Miles pushed the door open to the dwelling and glanced around. The place was dark as usual. The light bulbs didn’t work in half the fixtures. The only thing that bothered Waylon was the fact the screen door was the only thing open. Sure it wasn’t  _as cold_ as it had been the last couple weeks, it had warmed up a little bit. The sun was out and it was a comfortable long sleeve shirt type of warmth. But it wasn’t warm enough to leave windows and doors wide open. At least that's what Waylon thought but then again he hated the cold, period.

 

“Hello?” Miles called out as they both stepped into the trailer. Miles pulled his flashlight from his belt, Waylon did the same as they started to shine it around inside. The place was a mess as usual. The carpet was filthy and crusty with spilled liquids and other unsavory substances on it. The furniture had tears and stains on it, worn completely through in places. The counter tops and tables were chipped and broken and littered in trash and debris. There was clothing tossed about all over the place and Miles had to duck to get through the low overhangs of doorways. The place was gaudy in decorations, most of it was beer signage and hunting trophies. One of which consisted of a worthless shotgun that was rusted out near the firing pin and trigger. The owners of the trailer kept it around just to scare off good for nothing intruders. Only a few people knew it was completely worthless as far as use was unless you hit someone over the head with it.

 

Waylon split off from Miles and checked the other side of the trailer, flashing his light as he entered the bedroom and bathroom area of the trailer. Taking the short three or so steps up into it. The whole room was pitch black, with sheets and pillow cases duct taped over the windows to block out people from looking inside. He flashed the light into the closet area and moved to open the bathroom door. As soon as his hand touched the knob, the door opened and a tall lean figure darted through it. Before Waylon could move, he saw an arm strike out at him and felt something cut his cheek and pain searing behind it. A warm dampness followed, dripping down his face. He raised an arm and slammed into the figure, using one arm to defend against the shadowy assailant as he cried out. “Miles! Help!”

 

The thundering of boots stormed through the trailer as the light from Miles’ landed on the pair as they shoved back and forth. The assailant holding a bloody knife and fighting Waylon for power. Miles already had his gun drawn and aimed but it was too hard to get a clean shot in the narrow space with the two moving around so much. “Way, watch out!” Waylon gave the assailant a final push with a yell as he slammed him back into the wall and dove for the floor, drawing his weapon as he got out of the way. The assailant turned to attack Miles this time but Miles shot two tasers into his chest. The man convulsed and then collapsed onto the floor, dropping the knife in the process as he fell unconscious. Miles kicked the knife away and handcuffed the man quickly before looking to Waylon. “You alright?”

 

Waylon was sitting up on the ground, his own gun was in hand but his hands were shaking. He was glad Miles had tasered him instead. Waylon grabbed the first thing his hand touched being his actual firearm. Miles had thought ahead. Miles always thought ahead and Waylon was sincerely thankful for that. He holstered his weapon and gave a shaky nod. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

 

“No. Way, you’re bleeding.” Miles pointed out as he knelt against the center of the assailants back in order to keep him in place if he regained consciousness while he radioed dispatch. Letting them know what had happened and to send a second unit out for a crime scene and possible break in as well as a medical unit.

 

“Miles, it’s nothing. Just a scratch.” Waylon urged him but Miles wasn’t having any of it.

 

“You’re gonna get checked out. That’s that.” He said firmly causing Waylon to give in with a deep sigh and a groan of sarcastic despair.

 

They vacated the scene until the second unit could arrive and help case the place. They found out the assailant was the owner of the trailer’s brother who was high at the time. His sister and him got into a fight and she left to go drinking, leaving him home alone. The man had been in the bathroom when he heard Waylon and Miles enter the house and the weapon in hand was actually a straight razor used for shaving that was on the bathroom sink at the time. With Miles’ insistence, Waylon was checked out by the ambulance that arrived on scene and treated for the cut on his cheek as well as several smaller defensive cuts and wounds on his hands and arms.

 

Miles was busy cracking jokes the whole time but watched over Waylon like a hawk, arms crossed as he loomed protectively over his partner. The paramedics didn’t seem to mind much, seeing the easy going nature of Miles as a welcome relief from a day of dealing with grumpy old men and sprained ankles at the elementary school. Waylon could see through that facade that Miles had erected. Noticing the small signals in his posture. The slight tension in his shoulders, the set of his jaw and the sharpness that had taken up residence in his green eyes. Miles had been worried. Waylon knew it. Miles thought he was about to lose his partner in a freak call. The slight pallor of his features told Waylon that much. It had been worse inside the trailer but now he had time to regain color in his cheeks and the flush of the crisp fall air assisted with that.

 

Waylon nudged Miles with his elbow as the Paramedic was finishing up taking his blood pressure down. The brunette relaxed when his green eyes turned down to meet his partner’s reassuring smile. He sighed and placed a hand on Waylon’s shoulder which Waylon accepted with a gracious pat of approval. Reminding Miles that he was alright. All thanks to his partner who has and always will have his back.


End file.
